


Ready

by Piyo13



Series: Kingsman: The Red Dragon [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Canon-Typical Violence, Kingsman AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piyo13/pseuds/Piyo13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sokka embarks on the most dangerous job interview in the world, and makes a few friends (and enemies) along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (how come) i've never seen your face around here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold my latest project! This fic, Ready, along with two others, will form the series titled KINGSMAN: THE RED DRAGON. My goal is to update weekly, so we'll see how this goes! This is, in fact, a full-fledged Kingsman AU, though some of the plot points will more closely align with Avatar than Kingsman. Chapter and fic titles come from Imagine Dragons' song ["Ready Aim Fire".](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flLxVHYKeyk)
> 
> Additionally, I would just like to thank my partner in crime, Patch, without whom this fic wouldn't exist (and would be infinitely less intense without). Thank you, my bro.
> 
> Now, without further ado, on to the fic! I hope y'all enjoy :)

Sokka followed the man in the tailored black suit, eyes wide. The man called himself Galahad, and somehow knew Sokka's dad, and then there was also the whole thing with descending fitting rooms and secret bullet trains to who-knows-where. Now they were in a hallway that looked like a cross between a bunker and a hospital, all chic fluorescent lighting and smooth concrete flooring.

"This way," Galahad said, extending an arm to open a door and gesturing Sokka through. With only a small moment of hesitation, Sokka complied, and found himself in a low-ceilinged room with symmetrical rows of beds lining the walls and a group of people his age huddled in the middle. As he entered, another man—cardigan, this time—turned to face him, a notepad in hand.

"Ah, Galahad, glad you could make it," he said. Galahad nodded, and placed a hand oh Sokka's shoulder.

"Good luck," Galahad said, then turned smartly, gave a final nod to the cardigan guy, and left. Sokka was still somewhat confused about this whole deal—the most he'd managed to glean was that Galahad belonged to a privatized spy organization called Kingsman, and needed Sokka for some reason (to join them? Sokka was unclear about that, but his dad had given the okay so what was the worst that could happen?)—but he moved to join the others, standing awkwardly to the side. Abashedly, he noticed that while he was in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, everyone else was wearing, if not outright snobbish, then at least _expensive_ clothing.

"Alright, let's get this started then, shall we? Fall in." Cardigan Guy spoke with a thick accent that Sokka couldn't quite place. "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Merlin. You are about to embark on what is probably the most dangerous job interview in the world. One of you, and only one of you, will become the next Lancelot. Can anybody tell me what this is?" Merlin (and seriously, what even was _with_ the Arthurian names all over the place? Was the head of Kingsman called Arthur, too?) pointed at a greenish-grey pile of plastic-y fabric at the foot of one of the beds, and looked at the group expectantly.

The group looked amongst each other, and finally one of them raised a hand. He was wearing a dark grey vest over a rust-colored shirt.

"Yes?" Merlin asked, nodding.

"Body bag, sir," said Rich Kid #1.

"Correct. Mr. Smith, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Smith replied, nodding in the same dignified way, before giving the other rich kids a cocky glance, smug enough in his answer that Sokka felt the indescribable urge to punch him.

"Good. In a moment, you will each collect a body bag. You will write your name on that bag. You will write the details of your next of kin on that bag. This represents your acknowledgment of the risks that you are about to face, as well as your agreement to strict confidentiality. Which, incidentally, if you break, will result in you, and your next of kin, being in that bag. Is that understood?" Merlin looked at the group once more, and evidently decided that he'd found whatever he was looking for. "Excellent. After you complete the form, you are expected to turn in for the night. Fall out."

Merlin turned and left, the door closing with an ominous click. As soon as he was gone, the group broke apart, everyone heading to a bed and picking up their respective body bags. The rich kids were busy chatting each other up—Sokka was sure he'd heard something about the brand of _socks_ they were wearing, which was honestly ridiculous—but Sokka for the most part tuned them out, picking up the marker that had been under the body bag and beginning to fill out the little form.

He thought back to his dad's face when Galahad had shown up, and the secret smile his dad had given him, the one that meant there was something fun and exciting about to happen.

Sokka wondered if his dad's definition of 'fun and exciting' included filling out forms on body bags. Knowing his dad and the way he acted whenever he got a chance for field work instead of filing reports at Marines HQ, it was probably at least close.

He'd just finished writing out his dad's name when he heard a shuffling next to him. The guy who'd chosen the bed next to Sokka's own was looking at the body bag in Sokka's hands.

"It's just scare tactics, you know," he said matter-of-factly, almost resignedly. "They aren't actually going to kill anyone." Sokka looked over, raising an eyebrow while taking in the guy. He was dressed sharply, but had done away with a tie, and his jacket was now sitting somewhat crumpled on his bed, leaving him in a pale grey sweater. The most striking thing about him, though, was the large scar that seemed to cover half his face, reducing his eye on that side to a squint and making Sokka question whether or not Kingsman was actually a spy organization. A scar like that couldn't be good for spy work, could it?

Sokka looked away before he could come across as too rude, focusing instead on the guy's good eye. "You think?"

The guy smirked. "I _know_. Zuko, by the way," he said, extending a hand.

"Sokka." They shook hands, and Sokka was surprised to note that despite Zuko's upper-class accent and clothes, he still had calluses on his palms, rough enough to feel even for those few seconds their hands were in contact.

"Oh, are we doing introductions?" At the sound of the voice, Sokka turned. A young girl looked back at him expectantly. She was a bit shorter than him, with dark hair and dimples. Every item of clothing she was wearing has some type of floral print on it, and somehow she made it work.

"Sokka," Sokka repeated with a smile, extending a hand to her. _Probably best to start off on as many people's good sides as possible_ …

"I'm Song Seok," she said, shaking Sokka's hand before turning to Zuko.

"Zuko Tatsuko."

"It's nice to meet you, Zuko. And Sokka," Song said brightly. Then she focused on something over Sokka's shoulder, and he twisted a bit. Two of the other… trainees? Recruits? Two of the other interviewees were standing there with identical condescending expressions.

Song, bless her, spoke first. "And you are?"

The two exchanged a glance. "You mean you don't _know?_ " said the one on the left. Sokka disliked them, and by the curl of Zuko's lip, apparently so did Zuko. _Point for Zuko_.

"We're Chan and Ruon-Jian," said the one on the right.

"Only the most important young adults in—"

"Sorry," Sokka interrupted, making a show of cleaning his ear. "Who?"

Chan and Ruon-Jian both stared at Sokka with barely hidden disgust.

" _You_ probably wouldn't know," the one on the left said, pointedly looking Sokka up and down. Sokka fought to keep his expression flat. He knew he hadn't completely succeeded when yet another voice rang out, this one full of confidence to the point of being cocky.

"What's this? Fighting already? And to think, it's not even been ten minutes." It was Smith. "Jet Smith, by the way, and these two are Smellerbee and Longshot." Sokka glanced at the two. There was no way those were their real names, but neither protested, so Sokka shrugged it off. He still wanted to deck Smith—Jet—in the face, though.

"Sokka," Sokka offered, albeit reluctantly and only when Jet raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

"Interesting name. Interesting accent, too."

"Not too many people named Jet around these days, either," Sokka bit back, conscious of the way his Canadian accent layered over the British one he'd learned to mimic later in life.

Jet raised his hands. "I didn't mean to offend, I was just noticing."

Sokka snorted.

"Boys. Am I right?"

"You're right," Hope said, smiling at the newcomer. "You'd be?"

"Kori Morishita, nice to meet you."

With that, the round of introductions started up again, more and more names joining the pile, including a guy called Lee who straight-up refused to give out his last name.

Then the lights flickered, and a few people jumped in surprise. Sokka was absolutely, in no way, shape, or form, one of them.

 _"Trainees, I do believe I instructed you to head to bed after filling out your body bag information_ ," said Merlin's voice through a loudspeaker. Sokka looked around, trying to pinpoint where it was, but with no luck. Around him, several others looked just as confused; Zuko, however, had tilted his head only slightly upwards and was standing very still. _Weirdo._

" _As such, you will need to finish your preparations for bed with only the ambient lighting on,_ " Merlin continued, and the lights cut off completely, plunging them into darkness. " _Goodnight."_

For a few seconds everyone held still, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the 'ambient lighting', wherever the fuck that was (turned out it was over by the toilets, just a few thin strips of faint lighting on the floor, barely enough to see the toilets themselves and certainly not enough to do anything else by). Slowly, people made their ways back to the beds they had all chosen.

Chad and Ron Jon—Ruon-Jon? Chan? Sokka didn't really know or care, to be honest—were the first to make use of the toilets. There was no separation, just a line of simple ceramic bowls under a mirror. No privacy curtains for anyone, either, not even the girls in the group. Regardless of the lack of privacy, a few people showered anyway, everyone else, for the most part, pretending not to notice.

Eventually Sokka decided that peeing was worth potentially flashing everyone, so he made his way over. The toilet he'd chosen, luckily, let him face away from the group—even if it _did_ mean watching himself in the mirror. Sokka pulled a face, just because.

And then he squinted.

He looked quickly to the sides of the mirror—embedded into the wall. He finished peeing and tucked himself back in, and shot a quick glance around, but no one was paying him any mind. He cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed his face to the mirror—and looked through into a hallway on the other side, complete with a small bench, probably for observation purposes.

 _Ha! Thought you could fool me!_ Satisfied, Sokka stood back up straight, letting the two-way regain the illusion of being an actual mirror. He went and brushed his teeth with one of the provided toothbrushes, then wandered back to his chosen bed. Zuko was already under the covers, as was Kori on his other side, and everyone who was still standing seemed to be in some state of undress, so Sokka didn’t feel too awkward about stripping down to his briefs before clambering under the covers.

Even despite all the excitement of the day, it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

 

Sokka woke up to the heart-stopping shock of cold water. He gasped, flailing out of his blankets, and scrambled for the light, the cold chilling him further with every second. Similar gasps and shouts rose up from all around him—at least the others were waking up as well, and the collective flooding of light into the room revealed the flooding of _water_ into said room.

"The room, it's going to flood!" someone shouted, and Sokka only just barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, even as he had to stand up on his bed to keep his head above the water level. The panicked murmur continued to rise as everyone tried to suck in as much air as they could. Sokka slowed and deepened his breath like his father had taught him, trying to keep calm and letting himself adjust to the temperature of the water.

"The showerheads—the toilets!" Zuko shouted in their last few inches of airspace, and began swimming towards the toilets. _What the hell?_ Others followed Zuko, among them both Lee and Jet, and Sokka watched confusedly, treading water for a few seconds before giving up trying to understand what they were doing and swimming over to the door.

He pulled at the handle for a second, before realizing that with all the water on the inside, there was no way a decently sealed _pull_ door was going to open. Sokka turned and swam to the others, making it in a few short strokes—he still had a little bit of air left in his lungs, but right about now he would not have minded being able to take another breath.

The crowd around the toilets, somehow, had a steady stream of bubbles rising up from their showerhead tubes, and several were doubled or even tripled up, passing the tube between each other. Sokka had no doubt from the expressionless panel of faces that he was not invited to their little garden party.

Time to earn a few years' bad luck, then.

Mustering the last of his strength and clamping down tightly on the urge to breathe in water, Sokka swam over the heads of the toilet crew, grabbing onto the short rail underneath the mirror and bracing his feet against the mirror proper. Then he drew back, punched.

And again, shorter distance this time so the water couldn't slow him down as much.

And again.

And—the mirror shattered, and who knew how many liters of water followed, dragging Sokka with them, what little air had remained in his lungs forced out as he slammed into the floor. Sokka gasped for a few frantic seconds, easing the burning in his chest, and then a pair of slightly wet shoes appeared in his field of vision.

Sokka looked up. Merlin, in a raincoat every bit as stylish as his cardigan, looked down at him over the edge of his datapad.

"Well done, Mr. Amaruq. Not many notice that the mirror is in fact two-way." He said the last loudly enough that the toilet crew—panting on the ground behind Sokka, evidently also having been caught up in the rush as the water had emptied into the secret corridor—also heard, and a few exchanged glances. "Mr. Tatsuko, good work with the toilets." Zuko shot Sokka a smug grin. "For those of you still confused, if you can manage to get a tube around the U-bend of a toilet, you have an unlimited air supply. However," Merlin said, suddenly dropping any illusion of 'nice' or 'pleased' that hovered around him, "you have all failed this first test. Teamwork is tantamount, and you all appear to have forgotten that." He pointed to their bedroom-slash-barracks.

"Oh, fuck," said Ruon-Jian.

"Shit," said Chan.

Even Zuko drew in a sharp breath. There, the center of the floor, was a dark lump, wearing distinctly floral-patterned pajamas.

"Song," Sokka whispered, horrified.

Merlin drew the group's attention back with a snap. "You will perform eight-count pushups here in the hallway until maintenance has removed the body, after which I suggest you return to bed. It will be an early morning for you." With that, Merlin turned smartly and walked away, tapping his datapad the entire time.

For a few moments no one moved, watching as the last of the water was drained away and two people in masks opened the door to their rooms, carrying a familiar body bag. Sokka looked away, but caught Zuko's eye in the process.

"So much for scare tactics, huh," he muttered, and Zuko just shook his head, eyes wide, even the scarred one slightly more open than it had been before.

They settled into their pushups much more quietly and somberly than anything else they'd done so far. _Dad_ , Sokka thought as he gingerly wiped broken glass away from a small patch of ground for his hands to use, _what exactly did you let me sign up for?_


	2. (look through the) rifle's sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just forget about any previous author's notes, shall we?

True to Merlin's parting words the night before, the alarm went off seemingly two minutes after Sokka had finally managed to close his eyes. The alarm—no, the _sirens_ —didn't just sound, either; every single one of the halogen lights in the room turned on as well.

Sokka rolled over onto his stomach with a groan as the room filled with curses, burying himself facedown into the plastic. Everything except the interior of the plasticated bodybags had been soaking wet the night before, and Sokka hadn't wanted to deal with that, so. Bodybag it was.

He groaned again and was just getting to the point of being able to tune out both the wake-up sirens and he lights, when something grabbed him by the ankles and jerked, sending him sprawling onto the hard tile floor with an undignified squawk.

There was a smattering of giggles. Cheeks flushed and heart thumping from the adrenaline, Sokka twisted around in his body-turned-sleeping bag. Chan and Ron Jian loomed over him; they were making faces at some of the other interviewees, but as soon as they realized they had Sokka's attention, Ron Jian brought a hand up to his chest in fake shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Thought we might have needed to call the disposal team for a second time," said Chan.

"Thought you'd done us the favor of packing yourself up," added Ron Jian.

There was a tsk from Sokka's right, where Kori had gone to sleep, and then from Sokka himself as he realized what Ron Jian was saying.

"Wow," Sokka said, trying to give off as disapproving an aura as he could from the floor. "Just… wow." He began to extricate himself from the body bag. Chan and Ron Jian exchanged a high-five, and Sokka was ready to keep arguing, but then the sirens cut through his train of thought and thoroughly derailed it. Then came Merlin's voice.

" _Cadets. Given that this is your first day, your tardiness will be excused; however, in the future, do not presume this will be the case. You should be aware that breakfast time is from 0505 to 0530. It is now, for your reference, 0507. You are expected out on the field in front of the mansion at 0530 sharp. I will see you there."_

Then Merlin's voice cut out again, leaving the sleeping quarters in silence.

"Well, bugger that, where are our damned clothes?" someone groaned. Sokka pulled himself to standing to see Lee gesturing emphatically to the drawers, looking put upon. Sokka walked over to his and opened it.

He almost added his groan to Lee's as he pulled out the clothes within—not his own clothes, which he had put in there last night, but—

"A fucking _onesie?_ " Sokka said.

"It's not a onesie, it's a one-piece tracksuit," Zuko said from his bed, holding out his own (slightly darker) onesie.

Sokka blushed as a few laughs rang out around the room.

"It looks enough like a onesie that I'm sure your _mom_ wishes she could have pictures," Sokka shot back. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back, because Zuko winced. Almost imperceptibly, but Sokka had been glaring at him and so the minute change was noticeable.

"Yours too, I'm sure," Zuko returned, his voice cold enough that Lee, on Zuko's other side, shivered. Sokka wished he could do the same, frankly, but that would be showing weakness to the enemy, and as such was Not Allowed.

"Stop flirting and get changed already," Jet drawled from across the room, already in his plaid onesie. And boots.

It actually didn't look as bad as Sokka had thought it would.

Jet and his two cronies left, looking like a onesie gang, and after a second of staring after them, Sokka hurried into his own one-piece, complete, he now noticed, with at least two hidden sheathes, and finely craft, authentic leather combat boots that were probably going to hurt like a bitch to break in.

Sokka laced up snug, and then went to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. Zuko finished at about the same time as Sokka, and together they walked out of the barracks, navigating the hallways as best they could.

It was 5:20 by the time they arrived, which gave them ten minutes to eat—not a problem in the least. Sokka thanked his late-rising habits for having trained him as well as they did to scarf as much food down as possible in as little time humanely required to do so.

He washed his first two muffins down with a healthy mug of coffee, then ate the third and followed that with some fruit. He got a few looks along the way—literally no one else had even half as much food on their plates as Sokka, he was actually a little bit concerned for them—but hey, he was a growing boy. He needed his nutrition.

Besides, anything served at the buffet was already at least sixty times less calorie-dense than anything Gran-gran would make—if they weren't going to have food that was rich in energy, then they couldn't blame him for eating a lot of it…

Merlin found them as Sokka was working on a banana. He stuffed the rest in his mouth quickly, noticing out of the corner of his eye Jet whispering something to his posse.

"So, children," Merlin began, "You have all, for one reason or another, been recommended to us as a Kingsman agent. However, having looked at your files, I know for fact that there is only one of you who can run a kilometer in under four minutes, or deadlift more than ninety kilograms, and those are not the same person." Merlin looked around expectantly. Sokka was a little scared to hear what would follow a look like that. "These first two weeks we will spend focused on building your physical conditioning. Listen carefully: you will go in alphabetical order to the resident physician, who will give you a thorough physical check-up. Afterwards, I will meet you in the field in front of the house and we will begin your training.

"As an additional note, I hope you have all enjoyed your buffet-style breakfast, because from now on you will be served personalized diets, thanks to your resident nutritionist. Break!" Merling turned sharply and strode out of the room the same way he'd come, leaving general groans in his wake.

Then Kori spoke up. "Sokka! Your last name starts with an A, right? Anyone else? He said alphabetical order…"

Everyone else shook their heads no, so Sokka stood up, draining his second cup of coffee in the process.

"Alright, wish me luck," he said, and left, though not without noting that not a single person had actually wished him luck, good or otherwise.

 

The cadets stumbled into the sleeping quarters that night completely exhausted. Sokka finally understood the saying about muscles he hadn't even known existed, existing. There were, for starters, at least five in each of his arms, as well as one on the side of his ribs that made him feel slightly unbalanced.

No one, not even Jet, talked much as they numbly lined up for showers—they were also all too tired to give even half a rat's ass about modesty. Sokka didn't think he'd ever seen that many tits all at once in his like. Not that many dicks, for that matter. He wasn't biased.

When it was finally Sokka's turn to shower, he was pleasantly surprised to find the water was still warm, though he grimaced when it hit his newly-formed blisters. He attempted to scrub as much caked-on sweat off as possible, as quickly as possible, before his legs gave out. They'd been made to run at least ten kilometers—at _least_ ten, Sokka'd lost count around seven or eight—and the track they'd run on definitely felt like it went uphill both ways.

That was after the laps on the climbing wall. And before that, the weight training. And—

Sokka groaned. Just thinking about that made him ache even worse. He scrubbed a perfunctory hand through his hair, wondered idly if they'd let him keep his undercut, and then turned off the water.

He barely finished toweling himself off before collapsing into bed and falling asleep.

 

The next week progressed in much the same manner. Wake up at the ass-crack of dawn, eat whatever breakfast was given to you, strenuous physical exercise until lunch, more strenuous physical exercise until tea and then dinner, and nicely rounding off the day with, _surprise_ , even more strenuous physical exercise! And then a warm shower, before passing out.

The only reason Sokka hadn't dropped out yet—at least three already had, somehow and at some point, because there were four empty beds in the barracks—was because, truth be told, he was enjoying it, in a weird, slightly perverse kind of way. That much physical energy expended meant that Sokka's mind stayed busy and focused on keeping his feet moving one in front of the other, and that, combined with the fact that their routine was never the same, meant he was never bored.

On their seventh day—which had already started off rather oddly, with Sokka waking Zuko up from what was clearly a nightmare, and placing a hand on his shoulder until he stopped shaking, to which Zuko had muttered a low, gravelly "thanks" and Sokka had responded with a "no problem" and a curious look, which went ignored—Merlin found them at lunch. A few people (Sokka decidedly not included) stopped eating, but everyone eyed him warily. Kingsman had a host of trainers, and though Merlin no doubt oversaw everything, actually seeing him in person hadn't occurred since the first morning. Sokka squinted at Merlin even more intensely when he realized.

"Good afternoon, potential future Kingsmen. How is everyone?" Merlin paused for a moment, and a few people muttered some variation on 'good'; Sokka could have sworn he heard Jet say 'fan-fucking-tastic', but Merlin didn't react, either not hearing or else blatantly ignoring the sarcasm inherent in those statements. Every single one of the trainees had bags under their eyes, and probably, by this point, stank to high heaven. Sokka was so used to the smell the sweat by now that he was barely able to notice it anymore.

"As of today, we will begin weapons training. Luckily for you, we will start with something that should prove, if not easy, then as least self-explanatory—sniping. Also luckily for you, this will be a team activity, and by teams I mean partners. Stallman, you're with Scholtz. Strasser, with Morishita. Smith, with Rubin. Tatsuko, with Amaruq. Howell with Shiramazu. Townsend with Cui. Corsi with Parkman, and Elliott and Skinner, you will be working together as well. Find your partners and then find the armory, preferably in that order.

"I might also suggest caution whole doing the latter, if I may." With that, Merlin made his exit. There was silence in the room for two stunned seconds, and then it erupted into speech. There wasn't much time for the building of acquaintance, let alone friendships—and now they had, of all things, assigned partners? This was worse than kindergarten.

Sokka leaned over the table, looking in both directions until he met Zuko's eyes. Zuko raised his lone eyebrow, and Sokka raised one back.

_Step 1, Find Partner:_ check and done.

_Step 2, Find Armory_ was a bit harder. As with everything in Kingsman, there were no written instructions or indications posted in any of the hallways, so the trainees were forced to navigate using only the faintest of clues—an agent spotted coming from _that direction_ three days ago with a loaded weapon, a small gunpowder stain on the wall, things like that. There was also the tripwire-activated pitfall that only Zuko's fast reflexes stopped Sokka from falling into, but Merlin had given them a warning, which was honestly more than they'd had at other times that week, so Sokka couldn't even find it in himself to complain.

"Do you even _watch_ where you're going?" Zuko, clearly, did not view it the same way.

Sokka shrugged. "I tried…"

"Try harder," Zuko snarled, before backing up a few steps and taking a running leap over the pit. After a second's gauging the pit, Sokka followed.

Zuko continued on without a word.

"Hey," Sokka said, jogging after him to catch up, "if we hit a trap, at least it means we're close, right?"

Zuko shot him a look that could only be described as 'withering'. He jerked with his thumb to a point above his shoulder, where hung a small placard that read 'Armory'.

"We're here." The 'dumbass' at the end was silent, but Sokka still understood it, loud and clear.

_Asshole._

 

Sniping practice went about as well as expected. No one was impressed, nor impressive.

 

The second week continued alone much as the first, with the notable exception of there being many more partner activities. Sokka was always paired with Zuko, and even if by the end of the week he hadn't exactly _revised_ his opinions on Zuko's level of asshole-ery, there were still a few moments where Zuko wasn't as big of a jerk as he could have been, and Sokka appreciated that.

 

At the beginning of the third week, Merlin met them again at lunch, only telling them to meet him at the west end of the house.

Sokka exchanged a glance with Zuko. Cryptic instructions to places in the compound they hadn't been to yet generally didn't bode well. Sokka had managed to repay Zuko's saving him from the pit by stopping Zuko from activating yet another trip wire—unfortunately, that had been offset by Sokka triggering a pressure plate immediately afterwards and earning himself a scathing Zuko Remark™. Still, though.

Despite not having received any special instructions to that effect, Sokka followed Zuko out of habit, by now used to pair work.

Zuko frowned at him and raised a questioning eyebrow, which Sokka returned with a shrug. Zuko raised his eyes to the ceiling, but proceeded in silence, and Sokka found himself pretty proud of how well their silent communication was working.

They made it to the west end of the house surprisingly risk-free, and also first, which, frankly, had never happened before. Usually Lee and Kori, at the very least, were the first to make it anywhere.

"There's no one here."

"Points to Sokka for his astute observational skills," Zuko shot back instantly and inflectionless.

"Whatever. How do you know this is the west end?"

Zuko leveled Sokka with another look, and Sokka braced himself for a Zuko Remark. When it didn't come, Sokka raised an eyebrow. Zuko looked away for a second, then pointed up.

"The sun." Sokka didn't follow.

"I don't follow."

"It's afternoon, so the sun should be roughly in the west. Given that our shadows are pointing towards the house, we're in the west."

"Huh," Sokka replied, and the two lapsed into silence as Jet and Robert finally arrived, followed closely by Lee and Kori. Smellerbee and Longshot—Sokka still hadn't figured out their real names, somehow—came next, then James and Derek, and after another five or so minutes, Chan and Ron-Jian joined the group, looking somewhat worse for the wear.

"Pit fall?" Sokka asked.

"What's it to you?" Chan replied.

Sokka raised his hands in the gesture for surrender. "Just asking, yeesh."

A few more minutes, and everyone had arrived. They milled about uncertainly, glancing periodically from the balcony on the side of the mansion to the open field behind them, waiting to see where Merlin would arrive from, until finally, with a mechanical groan, the ground in front of the building opened and a platform began to rise.

"What is it?" Sokka muttered to Zuko as the top end of whatever was on the platform became visible. "It looks like a ca— _ohmygaaawd."_

It was, in fact, a stack of cages, and in the top one was the single most adorable puppy Sokka had ever laid eyes on.

The stack continued to rise, revealing more and more cages of puppies, all of varying breeds.

"Oh my God," Sokka muttered again.

Then the door to the balcony opened, and Merlin strode through, looking rather self-satisfied.

"As some of you will have learned in the past week, teamwork is paramount here at Kingsman. We're here to enhance your skills and test you to the limit. Which is why you're gonna pick a puppy. Wherever you go, your dog goes. You will care for it. You will teach it. And by the time it's fully trained, so will you be. Those of you who are still here, that is. Do you understand?

"Choose your puppy."

Sokka practically bounced. He turned to Zuko and grabbed his arms, shaking him slightly.

"We get _dogs!_ "

Zuko, to his credit, didn't even try to extricate himself from Sokka's grip, but merely raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said. "And if you don't go now, they'll all be gone by the time you get there," he added, with the faintest hint of a smile.

Sokka had only registered dimly that shit, Zuko was kind of cute when he smiled (followed by a secondary vague thought more along the lines of 'oh, fuck'), before he processed what Zuko had actually said, and set off with a yelp.

He was getting that puppy on top, no matter if he had to fight someone for it.

The bottom few cages were already open, puppies' new owners holding them or petting them. Sokka eyed the stack of cages. It seemed stable enough.

Handhold on the right, pull up with the left and switch out with foot, use the empty cage door there— _damn, Kingsman training is already coming in handy._

When he reached the top, the first thing he did was stick his fingers through the bars of the cage for the puppy to sniff. Sokka melted when the puppy licked his fingers instead.

"You are my new favorite person," Sokka told the puppy, who cocked its head at him. Sokka nodded. "Too fucking cute. Let's bust you out of here, huh?"

It took Sokka a good minute to figure out how to open the lock one-handed, his other hand being occupied with holding him up. When he finally opened it, he realized he had another problem—namely, getting the puppy (and himself) down in one piece. He scratched the puppy over the ear, and then the idea hit him.

Maybe the onesies _were_ good for something… Pulling himself close to the cage for balance and totally not because he wanted puppy kisses, Sokka undid a few of the topmost buttons along the stop part of his onesie. Then he gently picked up the puppy, tucked it into his shirt, and began the descent.  By the time his feet hit the ground again, Sokka was thoroughly covered in puppy kisses and almost positive he had never been that happy in his life.

Then Merlin handed out collars and leashes and told everyone to line up, training was starting. Sokka groaned, but nonetheless fastened a collar around his puppy's neck and kissed her (definitely a her) head before standing to attention.

 

"So, a husky, huh?"

Sokka looked up from where he was playing with Qimmiq on the floor. How she still had energy after the full day of exercises, Sokka had no clue, but she still jumped and yipped whenever Sokka play-grabbed at her. He nodded at Zuko.

"Yup! Her name's Qimmiq."

"Qimmiq? What does that mean?"

"Dog! In Inuktitut."

Zuko blinked slowly. "You named your dog… Dog?"

Sokka made a face. "Well when you put it like _that…_ " He scratched Qimmiq behind her ears, and she wagged her tail. "What about your dog?"

"He's a kai ken. I named him Agni." Zuko scratched Agni's stomach with a socked toe, Agni's tail beating against the ground. Then Qimmiq wandered over, and jumped on Agni, and the two began to roughhouse. Sokka watched them, a small smile on his face, and moved from the floor to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Does it mean anything? Agni?"

Sokka shuffled back a bit as the puppies tumbled together. Around the barracks, a few others were letting their dogs play with each other, and even more were trying to coerce their puppies into staying on their designated sleeping mats.

"It's… an old word for fire. And the god of it." Sokka whistled lowly at Zuko.

"Damn. Pulling out all the stops, huh?"

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Whatever." Agni yipped and rolled behind Zuko's legs, and Qimmiq followed with a yelp. Sokka yawned, and then stretched out his hands, not wanting to get up.

"Can you pass me my dog?"

"Lazy arse," Zuko said, but nonetheless leaned down and picked Qimmiq up, interrupting her and Agni's scuffle. She wiggled for a second, then seemed to realize she was closer to Zuko's face, and tried to lick him. Zuko actually smiled for a moment, before kissing Qimmiq on the forehead and handing her back to Sokka, who stared a bit, in shock. "Your eyes match," Zuko said, gesturing between Sokka and Qimmiq, who blinked up at Sokka with bright blue eyes.

Sokka blushed as Zuko walked off to use the toilet, and tried to ignore the very possible reality that Zuko had actually given him a compliment. Of sorts. Being compared to a dog was a good thing when the dog in question was the best dog to ever exist ever, right?

Whatever, there was no time for that right now.

"Qimmiq, c'mon girl, time for bed," Sokka said, patting the little mat at the foot of his bed where Qimmiq would sleep. She play-bowed and yipped. Sokka sighed.

This was going to be a night.


End file.
